


Restless

by herinterface



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, i just needed to write something like this, i'm ranting through shaw, it's rant fic basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herinterface/pseuds/herinterface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sameen Shaw is fed up, and Harold Finch learns something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

Shaw was not in the best of moods. Okay, she usually wasn't, but this was different.

She had noticed something lately. It wasn't new, but she had never paid much attention to it before. But after a while, it was pretty glaringly obvious.

She started to notice it one afternoon when she and Finch were alone in the subway station. Reese was keeping up his cover at the 8th precinct, and Root was out taking care of a number. Root had begged Shaw to stay with Harold, because Shaw may have gotten a tiny bit of a stab wound on their last mission together, and Root wanted her to "take it easy for at least a few days, Sam. Bear needs some company, anyway."

It was day two. Shaw was already itching to shoot some people. So, instead, she joined Finch in the subway car to keep an eye on the cameras that he was using to assist Root. Well, _assist_ was the wrong word. The Machine was already leading Root through the mission with ease. Finch just liked to pretend he was helping by watching Root and giving annoying comments every so often.

Shaw stood behind Finch's desk chair, looking over his shoulder and observing. He had already expressed his discomfort over this. "Ms. Shaw," he scolded, "must you stand over me like that?" And as much as Shaw wanted to be immature and pull a "I'm not touching you!" while wagging her finger in his face, she refrained. So instead she pulled up a chair and sat right next to him. Still just as close. But now, she wasn't standing, which was what he complained about. He seemed to notice this literal interpretation of his words, sighed, but said nothing more.

"Ms. Groves, there are three men heading down that hallway towards you. Are you certain that is the direction you would like to go in?" he asked patronizingly.

"Are you underestimating me, Harry?" Root questioned, smirking, as she continued heading towards the three bad guys. She was holding two pistols fully loaded with ammo, and she had an all-seeing god in her ear guiding her. Why exactly did Finch see her as incapable? But Shaw continued to hold her tongue.

Shaw watched the camera feed as Root turned the corner and quickly shot each of the men in the kneecaps, not missing a single shot. She looked up at the nearest camera and smiled pointedly. Finch was suddenly very silent.

 _Serves you right, asshole,_ Shaw remarked in her mind.

On screen, Root continued making her way to where the number was being held hostage, a spring in her step as always. While sometimes (most of the time) Shaw hated her constant perkiness, she now loved it, since it was rubbing Finch's own condescending-ass words right in his face.

"Ms. Groves," Harold started again, and Shaw rolled her eyes. "While that may have been easy for you, there are seven men in the room where our number is being held. Even _you_ might be a bit challenged by that," he almost sneered. Shaw wanted to shoot him.

"Your concern has been taken under consideration," Root said sarcastically, though to anyone else who wasn't Shaw or Finch, it would have sounded sickeningly sweet. When she reached the room holding said bogeys, she shot the doorknob and kicked the door open. Suddenly, the camera feeds for the entire building went off.

"What the fuck?" Shaw said, finally speaking for the first time aloud, leaning forward in her chair as if being closer to the computer screen would let her see Root.

"Ms. Groves?" Finch called worriedly. "Are you alright?" The screen remained pitch black.

All that could be heard from Root's earpiece was gunshots. Finch's wide eyes kept flicking back and forth between all the dead camera feeds, urging one of them to come online so that he could see what was going on.

"Root," Shaw said, hoping maybe Root would answer her, even though she hadn't responded to Finch.

Minutes of radio silence passed. The gunshots had stopped, and now Shaw and Finch didn't have video _or_ audio on Root.

"Ms. Groves, what is your status?" Finch asked, as if that would make a difference. It didn't.

Shaw was just about getting fed up.

Finch turned to address Shaw. "I fear we've lost contact with Ms. Groves." _Yeah, no shit_ , Shaw thought. She tried to communicate that message with her facial expression. It seemed to work, based on the way Finch's eyes widened and he turned away again. There was silence for another minute before he spoke up again.

"Ms. Groves always acts so recklessly. I wish she had only listened to me." he said, sounding disappointed. _What are you, her father?_   Shaw questioned internally. Finch's facial expression only solidified this thought further. He dared to look betrayed, as if Root had done something wrong by not listening to his every obnoxious demand.

Shaw had had _enough_.

She'd had enough of this _asshole_ always disrespecting Root, underestimating her skill set, and still not even having the decency to use her real name.

She breathed in slowly through her nose, trying to calm herself down. It didn't work.

"Her name," Shaw snarled through gritted teeth, "is _Root_. You know this. She only reminds you all the fucking time. Maybe she just sucks it up and deals with it because she respects you too much to tell you off, but I'm not as polite. I know her name reminds you of that time she kicked your _ass_ as an anonymous hacker, and it hurt, because precious old Harold Finch is too smart to be beat, but it's her name. And you'd be wise to stop fucking forgetting that. Use her name, or don't talk about her." She breathed heavily, as if the speech had taken all of her energy. She continued to glare holes into Finch's eyes, daring him to say something.

Harold's eyes were as wide as saucers. He was floored. He had seen Ms. Shaw angry before, sure, but this was a different kind of anger. This was... passion. Caring, even. But he knew Ms. Shaw would never admit to caring so deeply about Ms. Groves... about Root. He sat staring at her fearfully for a few long moments before finally opening his mouth to respond.

"Oh, sweetie," Root suddenly spoke up through the comm.

Shaw and Finch both abruptly turned their heads towards the screen, where all the camera feeds were back online. Root had the number walking next to her, frazzled but otherwise unscathed, and Root herself looked giddy. Shaw quickly scanned her form on the screen, looking for any obvious signs of injury. She found none.

"Thank you," Root continued. "Also, I'm okay. I don't know why you couldn't see or hear me. And Jimmy here is fine, too." She tilted her head to refer to the number next to her.

Shaw turned her attention back to Finch, who still hadn't said anything, and practically dared him to get Root's name wrong again.

"...Root," he tried experimentally, looking as though the name felt weird on his tongue. "I'm glad you're alright."

Shaw nodded at him, as if she had decided she wouldn't kill him after all. Harold felt as though he just barely escaped death.

"Thanks, Harry," Root replied.

The computer screen turned black. Shaw and Finch were both confused, before words came on the screen.

root 1   
/ro͞ot/  
\- the basic cause, source, or origin of something.

_Even his daughter was sassing him_ , Shaw considered. She mentally thanked the Machine for being on her side.

Harold's jaw dropped.

**Author's Note:**

> i needed a scene like this in the show. gonna be writing a strongly worded letter to the poi writers for never having shaw tell finch off. hope u enjoyed! herinterface.tumblr.com


End file.
